Don't Give Up On The Wanting
by cryogenicslime
Summary: Seventeen year old Gerard Way and his younger brother Mikey play hosts to their new guest Frank for a week as their parents go on a group vacation.   Frerard.
1. Chapter 1

"A friend in needs a friend indeed,

A friend who'll tease is better,

Our thoughts compressed,

Which makes us blessed,

And makes for stormy weather,"

I was woken up by a sudden fist punching at my stomach. My eyes shot open in alarm and I gazed up at the one who thought they had news so urgent they had to punch me awake. My younger brother Mikey was the culprit. Our age gap is only three years but it certainly doesn't feel that way - immature is the one word I'd use to sum up Mikey to anybody.

"What was that for?" I quizzed, pushing myself up and positioning myself so I was leaning against the wall, head titled sideways - eyes flickering due to the sudden rush of light Mikey had decided to bring with him.

"I wanted to annoy you so I said I'd tell you," he explained, giving his cheeky smile.

"Tell me what?" I folded my arms and pursed my lips as a sign that whatever he had to say wouldn't bother me nor annoy me.

"That you're gonna be stuck with just me for a whole week," he batted his eyelashes and looked up to the ceiling in an attempt to look cute before he smugly ended the sentence, "…big brother!"

I tried not to strangle him right on the spot, I wanted to wipe that cocky look right off his face in one blow but I mustn't, that's exactly the reaction, strangely enough, he wanted and I wasn't particularly known for giving others what they wanted.

"What?" I asked, wanting to know why I was actually going to be stuck with him for a week.

"Basically, mum and dad are going on a 'romantic getaway', yes, they want to get the hell away from us and go make love in France, kinda disgusting if you think about it-" he babbled on but I'd already stopped listening. So, mum and dad where jetting off to France to rekindle their love or whatever it is parents do. I pushed Mikey aside, rather too gently for my liking and hopped off my bed. I wandered over to my wardrobe and swung open the doors and stared blankly at the array of dull colours.

"You're not bothered?" Mikey piped up, swinging his strangely long legs over my bed.

"No," I lied. I'd have to mope about this later, I had an art class today at school so today there was actually an urgency of getting there on time.

I skipped breakfast, which isn't very weird for me at all and managed to catch the bus just as it swerved around the corner to my street. I pressed my head against the window, using my finger as a brush to create various little pictures with the condensation on the window. I amused myself by doing this until the bus came to a harsh halt and we all, like little sheep, hurried off the vehicle. Before entering the crumbling building I called a school, I sneaked around the back to have a smoke. I know, I know. It's going to kill me and all that? Hey, it calmed my nerves and I'm a nervous kind of guy. As I dived into my pockets to collect the essentials for my short puff of relaxation, I noticed a new kid. There was the usual lot, including myself, who snuck round here for the quick fag or two now and at lunch, but this kid was new. If he wanted to avoid any bother that he was sure to get around here, he wasn't exactly putting in much effort. What I'm saying, is this kid stood out. He looked over at me with a grim expression, before calling over in an all-too-confident tone, "Take a picture, it lasts longer!" Had I really just been staring at him? Not my fault he sticks out like a sore thumb. I bowed my head and quickly finished the cigarette, stomping on it aggressively to show him I wasn't one to talk to shit to.

"Oh wow, you killed , I'm so scared," he chuckled, stepping closer. I couldn't help but smile - as he approached me I noticed his height, or should I say - lack of it. This kid wasn't some tough and rough hooligan, he was the same age as Mikey - probably just a new kid trying to make a reputation.

"You shouldn't be smoking, young'in," I teased. He raised his fist, narrowing his eyebrows in frustration toward me.

"Don't. Just 'cause you're older doesn't mean I'm a fucking weakling compared to," he scanned me from head to toe in disgust, "you."

I nudged his fist aside, turned my back to him and walked back around the corner to the entrance of the kid. Just some silly little kid trying to make a name for his self. No big fuss. I pushed open the swing doors just as the bell sounded, feeling the awkward, lingering pain of the boy's eyes burning holes in my back.

I'd slept through science without getting caught … again, and now sat scribbling away in art. We where doing tonal work, sketching out apples and pears keeping extra care to include every mention of light and to exaggerate the lack of it in some areas.

"Hey, Gerard," I heard that all too familiar voice call my name.

"Hey, Lindsey," I smiled up at her with my own chapped lips as she grinned down at me with hers that as usual, where painted a vibrant red.

"You're good," she complimented, looking down at my work. I gave her another warm smile, Lindsey was one of the few I actually liked. "I prefer your other work though," she added, her grin growing.

"Huh?" I quizzed, stopping my sketching for a moment.

"You're 'doodles', the things that look like they will grow up to be comic superhero's, that guy with the monkey suit? The girl with the hair?" she informed myself of my own drawings as I seemed to know nothing of them. Then I realized. She'd caught what I'd been hiding on a crumbled piece of paper behind what I was supposed to be doing.

"Oh, you mean Spaceboy - and the girl, her name is The Rumour but I can't seem to get her sign right-" "Stop flirting with each other you two and get to work!" demanded an authoritative voice from above who belonged to the teacher, a grumpy old woman with squinted lips and beady eyes that peered down at us un-approvingly.

"Yeah, stop flirting with me, Gee," I blushed at the nickname she'd given me.

"It's you who's flirting, Lyn-Z," I replied back, causing her pale cheeks to match her lips in an instance.


	2. Chapter 2

"It's in the water baby,

It's in the pills that bring you down,

It's in the water baby,

It's in your bag of golden brown,"

As I dragged myself unenthusiastically across the cobbles of the path leading it's way to my doorstep, I managed to catch my mum, taking bags of what seemed Mikey and I's food supply, from the car boot. The one who was deciding to leave me as baby-sitter for a week with my kid brother. I quickened my pace and flashed a forced smile in her direction as her head tilted in recognition of my presence.

"Hey, Gerard," she smiled back, holding her hand out to take my school bag, that with my slumped over pose must have appeared to be struggling with. I straightened up and gave her a courteous nod.

"Gerard, I'm your mum - and anyways, I might as well be nice to you now when I'm leaving you on such short notice," she sighed, resting the final bag onto the ground.

"Short notice, huh?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah, we're leaving Wednesday thought that if I'd told you any sooner, you, or at least Mikes, would have tried something funny to avoid us from going," she gave a sarcastic laugh, "As if! I bet you're glad I'm gone," she tussled my hair like she used to ten years ago when I was seven. It's Monday today. I scrunched up my nose at her like some little creature leaving his nest for the first time.

"I'd better get inside, um, homework," I lied, hurrying inside.

Mikey was sitting on the couch, staring directly at me as I entered - it was as though he was waiting.

I paused, looking at him with one eyebrow raised in curiosity. A smirk played on his lips.

"Gerard, honey, you trying to avoid me?" My mum had caught up with me and now stood in the doorway, looking down with a pained expression.

"No, no-" I bowed my head, "I have homework," I lied again, managing to catch Mikey who was so obviously laughing to himself inside his head.

"You better not be so anti-social when Frank gets here," she sighed, closing over the door with the heel of her shoe as she dragged along the shopping bags. I looked up at her in confusion, throwing aside my bag and picking up two of the bags to ease her.

"He's my friend's son, you see, they're going to be gone too so I thought it'd be nice if he could come and join you guys," she informed. I turned around, Mikey had completely lost his smirk as this seemed to be new to him as well. Mikey's mouth gaped open as if he was going to argue but no words were heard, only a low displeased whimper.

So this Frank boy, whoever he was, was coming to stay. I wonder if he went to the same school as Mikey and I, I might have actually saw him before - caught him in the halls, managed to catch sight of him as I delivered a note or something to another class. I'd just have to find out tomorrow when he arrived. Mum said he was coming a day earlier just in case we didn't get along at all and all hell broke loose so she wanted to sort of, analyze how our 'relationship' with this boy seemed it was going to span out over the period she'd be gone. If we snapped into cannibals and tried to eat the poor boy or used him as a punching bag he was going home. Who knows? It might be him. He might actually be some evil mastermind who I haven't actually ever seen in school before because he's being held in Azkaban.

I gave a snicker at my thoughts and lay back on the couch I'd claimed my own for the last hour. I closed over my eyes and busied myself with my thoughts.

"Get the hell up, Gerard," Mikey groaned, prodding at me with bony fingers.

"Shut the hell up, Mikey," I grunted, flipping myself over from my comfy position.

"Gerard," he lowered his voice, speaking close to my ear, "that boy's here already."

I jumped up in surprise, aware eyes may be watching me.

"He sleeps on the couch?" I heard a voice asking in the background. I didn't actually sleep on the couch, it was vaguely familiar, so maybe I had met this guy already. Mikey blocked my view from him so I wasn't to be so sure yet.

"Mikey, move your ass," I ordered, shooing him aside and positioning myself so I was sitting rather than lying in front of our guest.

That's when I laid eyes on him, as Mikey navigated himself to the side, my eyes met with his.

He looked just as alarmed as I did.

"You're Gerard?" he asked in awe, taking timid steps forward.

"Yeah, I am," I snapped back, looking down at my bare feet awkwardly.

"Oh, okay then," Mikey laughed, "You two are going to get along," he joked, clapping his hands together sarcastically.

"Yeah," this Frank boy, if I had remembered his name correctly, gave a jittery laugh. "I'm going to step outside for a moment," he informed, retreating back.

"I'd watch this one," I mocked, "he might inhale more than the air outside."

Frank's pale face turned a dark shade of red, showing both embarrassment and anger. He furrowed his eyebrows just like he had done during our first meeting. Mikey's head turned back and forth, switching between my jeering smirk and Frank's tomato-like colour.

My mum had decided to show, she, likewise to my brother, appeared to be watching a tennis match as she tried to decipher Frank and I's expressions. She decided to ignore us after a few brief looks and simply announced she was making toast for us before leaving the room again. I gave a nod, it must be early then - a while to wait before heading to school anyway.

Great. I gave a sigh, standing up and wiping my sweaty palms on my t-shirt. Frank actually made his way outside, Mikey - like a puppy, a rather tall, skinny puppy - following him outside, babbling on to him about some new book or something that I'd never have taken the time to have a conversation with him about 'cause my damn mind seems to not want to give me the pleasure of letting me escape with the printed word. Frank wasn't paying attention anyway. He was muttering the occasional, "yeah," and "ooh, cool," - faking interest. He was shooting me icy glares, signalling I'd get what was coming for me as soon as the adults left. Mikey, like the charming host he was having to be due to the inconvenience Frank and I had already kind of collided before, he swung open the door. I watched as Frank dived into his back pocket taking from it a cigarette. He held his hand back for a second, holding the cigarette in such a way that it resembled another of his fingers - a rather rude one, saying that. I heard the faint snicker that escaped his lips before the door closed over with a clang, the noise not quite loud enough to

leave the impact our new guest just had.


	3. Chapter 3

"It's in the water baby,

it's in your frequencyIt's in the water baby,

it's between you and me."

I sat at the table, Frank on my left and Mikey on my right. My mum and Frank's stood straight in front of me, glancing down at the pair of us with anxious expressions.

"Are we supposed to say sorry?" Frank asked, resting back in his seat lazily.

"Probably," I replied, holding my coffee mug to my lips and taking a delicate sip of the fine liquid, feeling it's hot, creamy texture trickling down my throat. I let out a small sigh, coffee really was heaven in a cup. Frank looked over at me with a 'what the hell' look about him. Mikey just gave a slow, sure nod like that of a recovering mental patient in the younger boy's direction.

"Coffee's good," Mikey said.

Frank shook his head as though he was waking from a daze and got back to speaking to me.

"Do you wanna? Yeah know, settle this?" he said, in a low voice so his mum couldn't here him. I guess, he wasn't only trying to keep up a tough reputation at school.

"I don't know, Frankie," I sighed smugly, taking another sip.

"Don't call me that," came that toned-down voice from my side.

"I will call you whatever I like, Frankie," I repeated his new name once more.

"Fu-" his head shot up to our mum's disapproving frowns.

"Work out your issues, boys," my mum gave a sad sigh.

"I know what you're talking about Donna," Frank's mum gave a gentle laugh, "And soon, you have school in a few minutes," she looked up at the clock before quickly correcting herself, her words accompanied by her jerking arms, "Actually now! Get up boys, get out the door!"

I jumped up from my seat, snatching hold of my school back and racing out the door - steering myself straight ahead and not even glancing back to check if the other two were bothering to follow me, I didn't really care if they missed school or not - I could really do without this whole week of rent-a-friend, altogether, so escaping the sight of their faces for a few hours would be something of pleasant. The bus was sitting impatiently, groaning and heaving as I stepped onto it. The driver gave me her familiar cold look. I stared back, doing what I usually do in such situations; I smiled. I saw her diverting her eyes from my own face and glancing at Mikey and Frank who were running towards us. Her eyes seemed alarmed, not at Mikey - he was any adult's dream really but more to Frank. Maybe it was his focused gaze, his lip piece that somehow glittered in the dull light that we called the sun, maybe it was his floppy hair that hid one of his perfectly round, amber eyes…I shook my head, bringing my daze to a halt. Maybe it was just because he was a dick, yeah let's go with that. Her eyes swerved back to my own, my lips still curved, this time more encouragingly - mentally cheering her on. I didn't dare think she'd actually do it. Bus drivers, especially such a 'lady' as this one, weren't exactly kind people. Actually, come to think of it - maybe that's why she did it. The doors slammed shut. I looked back, seeing the two boy's shocked expressions through the musty glass. I shrugged, mouthing, "What ya' gonna do?" and scampered along to my own seat. I fell into the curve of it's uncomfortable material, poising myself once more in the direction of the window, welcoming my canvas that was spotted today from the raindrops that had fallen presumably last night. I watched, intrigued, as each one raced against the other. As they grasped the moisture of fellow speckles of rain and grew larger, falling quicker and quicker, I imagined two peeved faces forming on them. Oh how angry my brother and my rent-a-friend was going to be when they finally made their way to the school. Sighing, I remembered the little shake up that had taken place between myself and Frank - if he was insistent on capturing that tough-boy reputation for himself then I'd be meeting him back there again. The joy.

The bus tediously winched itself along the road, arriving at the school with only a minute to spare. The one day I am in absolute dire need of a fag is the day the driver decides to pace herself but I couldn't really complain about her, she had done that one deed earlier that I still couldn't decide whether was a good one or a bad one. I shuffled inside the building, quickly scanning my surroundings on the lookout for anybody to strike up conversation with or socially pressure to talk to whilst we went to class. Ray was a fine candidate. A somewhat tall boy with a head of hair consisting of perfect curls, often referred to as the 'fro. Actually, we were pretty good friends - we'd hang out occasionally; grab a few beers, lounge about one of our houses. He was a genuinely nice guy and nothing of the sorts of rent-a-friend Frankie, who I really have to stop making connections to at every little thing. No pun intended. I walked towards him, my oh-so-common smile playing on my lips. He replied with a toothy grin, waving his hand in the air to usher me over quicker.

"Ray," I managed to make out just before the bell sounded its high tone.

"Gerard," he laughed, making a comical face to the nearest bell stationed on the ceiling. I looked up at it too, shrugging my shoulders in agreement at it's annoyance.

"So, what you got?" I asked, as we both instinctively began to saunter towards the stairs.

"English, which means you've got it too I presume?" he laughed - a kind of bad joke directed at the fact we sat next to each other in this class. Wait, why did I even ask him then? Oh, his joke was directed at me being an idiot and forgetting. Haha. I gave a laugh, rolling my eyes at my own silliness."So, much happening?" he said as we made our way through the babbling crowds.

"Well, my mum thought it would be a good idea to throw me and Mikey a guest. So, this new kid - Frank," I went on, "he's staying with me and the Mikes for a week whilst her and my dad jet off to Paris, I think he moved here just recent or something, 'cause I only saw him for the first time here at school." Ray nodded, giving me a comforting smile, "I'm sure it'll be okay - he'll probably end up to be a pretty cool guy," he said - trying to look on the bright side, a usual thing for Ray to do. I pursed my lips together, hiding my annoyance at what Ray had just said. _Oh, he'll be a pretty cool guy, like totally. _I imagined that of an over-preppy cheerleader mimicking Ray's suggestion.

"I'm not so sure," was all I said before we broke into a pretty regular conversation that we'd both soon forget about as soon as we stepped into class.

I was being stupid again. As I'd said, I'd forget everything Ray and I had discussed after Frank. Frank. He was sticking on my mind an awful lot today. All during English, whilst my teacher held up booklets and pointed to highlighted sections, even after focussing on the words in front of me, all I could say was 'he'll be a pretty cool guy.' He'll be a pretty cool guy. I'd remembered the angry expression he'd wore when he'd walked out the door for some 'air' this morning. I remembered the smug little gesture that followed. I then recalled when he'd actually tried to put our little feud to an end, without resorting to violence. I'd only laughed at him and acted cocky myself. Maybe if I wasn't so mean- I cursed myself for even thinking about feeling sorry for the little bastard. I could just see the very look on his face if he could tap into my mind right now. A grin spread across his little fucking pretty face. He had an irritatingly pretty face. The bell sounded, causing everyone to scuttle out from behind the desks and race to wherever they met up at interval. This meant facing Frank, in my case. I instinctively strode out of the classroom, down the stairs through the endless crowds of my classmates and snuck round the back without even a second thought - it was routine for me. As I threw my bag aside, I felt my back pocket for my packet, growing anxious when nothing was to be felt. Oh great. My arms fell against my sides loudly in exaggeration as I began cursing myself again - this time very vocally.

"Missing something?" someone asked. Someone who's presence I could now feel right by my side.

I spun round, my hands suspended in mid air as if I'd been caught by the police doing graffiti or something else rather criminal. Oh, it was him. There was that irritatingly pretty face looking up at me with that look he always gave that told the whole world he 'wasn't always right, just never wrong'.

"You took my fags, you little shit!" I snapped, ripping them from his hands. His eyes grew wide, before a smirk danced on his pink lips.

"No, simply brought them for you," he explained, with a purr playing on his words.

I grunted in annoyance, flipping open the packet, getting my lighter from my pocket and lighting up. I must have done this rather quickly, as the little kid in front of me seemed impressed for once. It wasn't much long before I realised he was probably only faking it to annoy me even further.

I rested myself against the wall, inhaling and exhaling the fumes and toxins I'd been so many times warned of.

"Frank," I sighed, "what are you doing?" He was staring at me, that's what he was doing.

"Nothing," he shrugged.

I let the cigarette fall to the ground.

"Just thinking," he piped.

Whoever thought thinking was nothing, was a very foolish person because 'nothing' hadn't been annoying me all day.


	4. Chapter 4

Don't give up on the wanting.

Chapter 4

"It's in the water baby,

it's in the pills that pick you upIt's in the water baby,

it's in the special way we fuck."

School was ended. I sat on the bus, slouched forward, transfixed on my twiddling thumbs. I could hear Mikey and Frank sitting behind me, talking to each other about Mikey's crush. Another subject poor Mikey didn't impress Frank with. I didn't bother to listen much to find out who the crush actually was, little Mikes wasn't good at hiding his feelings towards a girl, let alone anyone. I continued to watch my thumbs as I like a puppet master, made them dance. They were The Joker and Harley Quinn, fierce against each other, every minute thinking of yet another way they could end the lustful lover they had - an 'accidental' cigarette fire, a simple bullet to the head, yet as they fell harder into each other - with even more angst, they still had that throbbing sensation of want. Want that they didn't want to give up on. It was a painful, passionate love. It was a passionate hate. I snapped from my trance, shutting away my soaring imagination. I turned to my brother and rent-a-friend.

"Hey, so - I was talking to Ray today," I directed to Mikey, who I knew was meaning to catch up with the curly-haired boy.

"What was he saying?" Mikey asked, seeming particularly interested and I'm sure I caught a hint of relief.

"Oh nothing really, I was just talking to him about Frank," I said, "He said he might turn out to be a pretty cool guy," my head rotated to Frank so I was looking straight at him when the smug laugh escaped my lips.

"Hey, Gerard, stop being so mean," Mikey complained, "Stop being such an ass, even. Cut him some slack, ey?" Mikey tried.

"Cut him slack?" I repeated, outraged, "This 'cool guy' stole my fags this morning," I informed, crossing my arms huffily and giving a harsh stare at the culprit. Mikey looked over at him, a look of shock, a look of shock that quickly turned into one of amusement.

"He did?" Mikey asked with a smile.

"Yeah," I huffed, failing to put Mikey off Frank but instead succeeding to make him grow fonder.

"I didn't steal them, Gerard," Frank spoke now, "I simply saw you forgot them so brought them for you, settle down, Gee," Oh god. No he didn't.

"Where did you hear that name?" I asked quickly, diverting from the fag argument.

"I didn't hear it," he looked genuinely confused, "I thought of it just there," he gave a coy smile. I looked at him for a moment, not arguing - I didn't want to. I just looked over at him - studying his features which now worked perfectly together to simulate an expression of confusion. I shook my head slowly.

"You couldn't of," I protested, looking over at Mikey who seemed to be finding this very awkward all of a sudden.

"Yeah, I did, why are you so worked up about the name anyway?" Frank asked before he quickly added on another, much more anticipated, question, "Oh! You got some little girlfriend who already calls you it, ey pretty boy?" Pretty boy. That was definitely a signal that he had spoken to Lindsey, a signal that his own pretty little face didn't seem to have a clue about. I saw his body shuffling forward slightly, his arm extending and I jumped away startled as his hand met against my own bare skin. That felt weird. Not like when Lindsey decided to burst my personal bubble that I had so many times tried to remind her of keeping a clear distance from - apparently keeping distance isn't an option when trying to seduce a mysterious young man such as myself. It felt tingly. I looked up at him, he seemed just as startled as I did.

"You wearing a buzzer?" I asked, staring down at my hand looking for some type of burn mark. Nothing. Frank looked even more ruffled now, I could hint agitation in his voice when he spoke;

"Gerard, you're acting weird, dude, if you're trying to mess with me - I couldn't care less, I tried to help."

A few days pass. Nothing particularly interesting has occurred except mum, dad and Frank's parents leaving. We all exchanged unenthusiastic hugs as they gushed over how they would miss us oh-so-dearly, then joked to themselves - as adults do, about how they wouldn't really and couldn't wait until they finally got to relax and enjoy the scenery of beautiful hills, rivers and eat delicious, perfected food instead of their daily tour of dirty clothes, shredded magazines and three courses that they had spent all day preparing just to enjoy at least five minutes of. Then they where off, Mikey, Frank and myself staring outside the window, watching their excited waves - our glum responses never seemed to dampen their mood

Frank and the invisible buzzer incident has been gnawing away at my head each and every day that has flown past. I started to think that it was maybe just that weird feeling you sometimes get when someone you like touches you or when someone unfamiliar accidentally brushes against your skin, I'll go for the latter, Frank with his rebellious, enigmatic ways made him very difficult to completely figure out yet he seemed so familiar that my choice seemed to sway back and forth. I couldn't like Frank. That's insane. He's pretty, alright but it's an irritating pretty - like a strawberry-filled dessert that is just too sweet. Additional to that, I'm not even into boys - sure, I can quite honestly admire the ass of a passer-by who's masculine features just beg me for an opinion.

Oh god.

It's Friday.

Bang. The sound of bottles hitting the top of the kitchen counters.

Clash. The sound of the growing quantity of alcohol's glass containers chiming against each other, forming a seducing ring.

Eek! The sound of Mikey when he waltzes in with Frank closely behind him and catches sight of myself heaving the bottles from various drawers and cupboards which I ignore once opened, so now almost three quarters of their contents gone - It appears as though they have been raided by some craving lunatic. A judgment made by someone who could be very right.

"What the hell are you doing, Gerard?" he squawks.

"What does It look like?" I ask, scanning the labels of all the alcohol I'd managed to pry from the abyss that is my kitchen cupboards.

"It looks like you're having a little fun there, Gee," Frank pipes up, his voice managing to startle me once again.

"Yup, keeping the noises away, letting loose, chillin', killin' - that type of stuff," I said, grabbing a bottle of Margaritas.

"Time to take the nice stuff while I can still remember the flavour," I joke, screwing the lid off the bottle, throwing it aside and taking five consecutive gulps of the pale liquid.

I slide it across the counter toward the two.

I give a laugh at Mikey's face and grab another bottle in my hands, this time one containing the bitter refreshment that is Vodka. Mikey looks at me with displeasing eyes, his common anxiety seeping through. Frank, however, is quite happily chugging down what remained of the Margaritas.

"You're right, that does taste good," he gives a devilish grin, placing the bottle aside and wiping his lips with the corner of his jumper sleeve. Mikey looks appalled now,

"Gerard, he's thirteen."

"You're fourteen."

"Yes?"

"Fourteen year olds shouldn't be so whiney,"

"Thirteen year olds shouldn't drink,"

I unscrew the cap.

"See what I said?"


End file.
